


Addiction

by mindhunter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry, Cheating, Infidelity, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Not really between Harry and Draco, Possessive Behavior, Seduction, Strong Harry, bathroom blowjobs, mentioned cross-dressing, miscommunications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:19:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindhunter/pseuds/mindhunter
Summary: "This," he murmured, lifting his head and turning Harry's face toward him, "this is out of convenience.""Convenience my arse. You're addicted, Malfoy.""Yes, well, then I supposed this is my temporary fix, hm?"





	Addiction

Harry tipped Draco's face up, the pink blush on the blond's cheeks making a primal part of Harry growl with satisfaction. 

"So pretty like this, Malfoy," he murmured, dropping long, lewd kisses on his pale neck. He liked marking Draco up, turning his neck and chest and thighs all shades of red and purple, placing his mark on the blond. He was Harry's. Only his - what everyone else thought could be damned.

A hand was in his hair, jerking him up so that Draco could kiss him desperately. Harry pulled back slightly, their lips touching just barely. Merlin, he looked exquisite like that - eyes half lidded and hazy with desire, his lips swollen and a dark pink, his cheeks a fetching rosy color. 

He looked like he belonged in a museum. Artwork. A masterpiece. 

"We should - ah, ah - we sh-should stop," Draco said weakly, but his lips brushed against Harry's in the softest of caresses. 

"Tell me to stop," Harry replied, ceasing his thrusts in order to grind his hips up, pressing the head of his cock tortuously against Draco's prostate. He watched vindictively as Draco gasped, his eyes flying open to stare at Harry incredulously.

"Tell me, Draco," he commanded, slipping out of the pale man to deliver a hard thrust. Harry's hand trailed slowly up to his neck, pressing gently as a reminder, a thinly veiled threat that was more a promise than anything. He watched in satisfaction as Draco's breath stuttered, a soft mewl escaping his sweet lips. 

His hand continued its ascent, until it was buried in his partner's fine blond hair. 

"Tell me," he growled, yanking Draco's head back to expose the neck already littered with dark red marks, all courtesy of Harry's lips and teeth. One of his hands was wrapped around Draco's legs, holding him open as Harry thrust roughly into him, the other holding his head back. 

"It's w-wrong," he gasped out. 

"Tell me to stop," Harry said again, punctuating each word with a fast thrust. He was raining kisses on Draco's jaw, too overcome with desire to wretch himself away from the delectable, unmarked skin. He could feel the sharp sting as the blond man raked his nails down Harry's back.

"Don't - don't stop," he sobbed, pulling Harry closer to himself. 

\---

"I love him." 

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?" 

"Fuck off, Potter, I don't need to convince myself," Draco spat, the sneer evident in his tone. Despite the alleged hate in his voice, Draco buried his face into the juncture between Harry's shoulder and neck, and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to the skin there. 

"Sure you don't," Harry mocked. "I'm sure that it's completely normal to have my come dripping out of you when you," he paused, " _love_ someone as much as you love him." 

The jabbing words were not enough to rile Draco, who merely shook his head. 

"This," he murmured, lifting his head and turning Harry's face toward him, "this is out of convenience." 

"Convenience my arse. You're addicted, Malfoy." 

"Yes, well, then I supposed this is my temporary fix, hm?" With those words, Draco leaned down and pressed his lips chastely against Harry's own, working his partner's lips open as he slid his tongue into that wet, sensual mouth. 

~~~

Harry knew it was stupid. No, it was beyond stupid. He knew damn well that Draco Malfoy was in a relationship. Worse, he knew that Draco Malfoy and his fucking boyfriend were going to attend the Ministry gala. 

And despite this knowledge, Harry had decided to show up as well. 

It was stupid. Even more so when the unwelcome feeling of jealousy had come creeping in, whispering dark, downright insane commands in his mind. 

He wanted nothing more than to wrench Malfoy out of that ponce's arms and bend him over the table, just pound into him until the only name he knew how to say was Harry's.

Oh and how beautifully he said it, too. How desperate and pathetic Malfoy became, how easily Harry was able to reduce him to a needy mess. 

Harry nearly groaned as the thought entered his mind. Now was not the time. Not when Malfoy was across the grand ballroom, standing closely - far  _too_ closely - to the Prince William wannabe that he was currently dating. 

"Potter," came a low voice next to him, and Harry glanced to find Theodore Nott sitting at the bar next to him. 

"Nott," Harry nodded back. 

"You look like you're two seconds away from apparating out of here." 

Harry snorted. "Yeah? And what if I am?" 

"Well, then I'd humbly request that you help out a fellow Auror and whisk me along." 

At Harry's raised eyebrow, Nott merely huffed and smirked innocently, "What? It's not like anyone could deny the 'oh-so-great' Saviour of the Wizarding World. Less people would make a fuss out of me leaving if I left with you." 

Despite the slight annoyance at the overused title, Harry mulled over the idea. 

"And," he drawled slowly, taking a sip of his whiskey to buy time, "if you were to leave with me, what would you propose we do?" 

Ever the Slytherin, Nott hid his surprise quite well. He swirled his drink, watching the ice cubes clink as the amber liquid sloshed over them and hoping he wasn't reading the situation wrong. 

"Hmm, well, I could think of a few things," he replied in a low voice, his pretty blue eyes darkening with unmistakable intent. 

Harry slowly stood to his full height, raising his tumbler to his lips as his gaze raked deliberately over Nott's form. He had to admit, he was handsome - almost as much as a certain blond across the room. 

A slow, wicked smirk took over Harry's lips. He stepped closer to Nott's seated self, stepping into his personal space. One long finger hooked under his chin, tipping the Slytherin's head up until his eyes could meet Harry's.

"Like this?" he asked quietly, before dipping down and pressing his lips to Nott's in a slow, wet drag. The seated man tasted like sweet brandy and mints, so different from Draco's taste of apples and desire. 

Harry growled at the thought and pressed his lips more savagely against Theo's, wanting to erase the thought of Malfoy from his mind. Theo seemed not to mind as he replied eagerly, kissing Harry back intensely, his tongue drawing Harry's out in an intimate dance. 

Gradually, Harry pulled back, his eyes hooded with desire. He wasn't Malfoy but fuck if he wasn't alluring. 

"Well," Harry stepped back, licking his lips hungrily. "I think it's time we left, yeah?"

\---

They were halfway across the ballroom, Harry's hand wrapped securely around Nott's waist when Draco intercepted them. 

"Theodore, I was just looking for you," Draco exclaimed, his steely gray eyes cutting to Harry so accusingly that the latter nearly let go of Nott in surprise. 

"Now's really not the best time, Draco. We were just leaving-"

"Pansy's looking for you. She said it was of the utmost importance." 

"Yes, well, I'm sure you can help her," Nott replied pleasantly but Harry could tell by the way he went tense that it was the equivalent of a Pureblood argument. 

"She specifically asked for you," he said with a smile bordering on a sneer. 

"Go, Theo," he said, using that name for the sole reason of spiting Draco. He wasn't disappointed, as the blond in question glared at him, before smoothing his face back into the famed Malfoy mask. 

"I'll wait for you," he promised lowly, pressing a wet kiss to the shorter man's lips. With a quick nod, he was off in search of Pansy, though not before shooting Draco a withering glare of his own.

Before Harry could so much as move, Draco was upon him, tugging him toward the grandiose hallways and into an over-glorified toilet.

"What the fuck was that?" he spat, whirling on Harry as soon as the door locked behind them. 

Harry regarded him with guarded eyes. The Malfoy before him looked ravishing, his cheeks flushed a fetching pink and the color in his eyes more vivid under the lights in the overtly lavish loo. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself and instead leaned against the marble countertop of the sink, and gazed back impassively.

"What?" 

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." 

"It was a kiss," Harry drawled, forcing his voice to sound bored when his heart was racing, sending his blood pulsing madly through his veins. 

"Like hell it was! You were basically devouring-"

"What I do is none of your goddamn concern, Malfoy. You've made it clear that you do not belong to me, nor I to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a  _date_ to get back-"

"Funny, Potter. Is it because he's a Slytherin? Is that it? Do you get off on being corrupted by the evil house of Hogwarts? Is that it?" Draco intoned dangerously, taking tiny steps until he was pushing Harry against the counter. 

"Funny, Malfoy," Harry parroted back, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."

At Draco's silence, Harry grinned evilly. 

"Oh but that's not possible, is it?" he questioned rhetorically, cruelly, "You love your boyfriend, don't you? So much that you left my flat yesterday full of my come, hm?" 

He leaned down with purpose, stopping when their lips were a mere inch apart. Their lips parted, hot puffs of breath mingling as they dared each other with their eyes to make the first move. 

In the end, it was Draco who broke first, surging forward to meet Harry's lips. He kissed him desperately, like a savage, lips and tongue moving furiously as though he were trying to erase any trace of Theodore Nott from Harry's lips. 

\---

Harry stared down at Draco, his eyes unwavering as the blond kissed the head of his cock painfully slowly. 

"Mine," he whispered, his tongue lapping over the weeping slit in kittenish licks. A moment later, his pinkened, kiss-swollen lips wrapped around Harry's cock, suckling softly, almost as if he were in a trance. He pulled off with a sudden pop, his eyes searching the brunet's.

"Your cock belongs to me, Harry," he murmured, but the way he said it made Harry feel as though he'd shouted it in the small room. 

"In my mouth," he said before drawing it back in from a teasing suck.

"-or in my arse," he said as he rained kisses down the underside of the pulsing organ. 

"All mine," he vowed lowly, keeping his gaze on Harry's as he took half of his throbbing dick between his sinful lips. 

The green-eyed man found he could hardly speak, could hardly breathe as the weight of that declaration settled into his chest. He felt almost angry at Malfoy's words. _His_? How could any part of Harry belong solely to him when Malfoy refused to give up any part of himself? 

With a savage growl, Harry tightened his hold on the silky golden strands and began to thrust into Draco's mouth. 

"All yours huh? Then take it," he muttered, thrusting in brutally. 

"Such a needy little slut for my cock, aren't you?" Harry crooned, watching as the blond slipped further into that headspace where nothing mattered, where nothing existed except for them. 

"Gonna send you back to your boyfriend all full of my come again," Harry promised, delightfully surprised by the answering moan that reverberated around his cock.

Harry had thought that Draco's cheeks had been a fetching pink before, but they were nothing compared to how they looked painted with his seed. He watched with a twisted hunger as Draco scooped the white substance up and sucked it from his fingers, whimpering unabashedly when he swallowed. 

Merlin, it was so wrong. But it felt so right, so good, that Harry stopped caring about right and wrong. 

They kissed again, deep and needy, Harry's essence still clinging onto the pink lips that drove him wild. 

"He won't suck you off like I do."

Harry ignored him. "Does your boyfriend know that he tastes me when you kiss him?" 

In lieu of a response, Draco kissed him again, sucking on his tongue for a brief moment before stepping away and opening the door. 

~~~

"Kiss me," Draco begged, licking his lips as he dragged Harry closer by his tie. 

"Theo's waiting for me," Harry explained as he tried to back away. After two surprisingly good rounds of sex, Theo and Harry had decided that perhaps they could branch out into more frequent meetings. 

Meetings that turned out to be quite satisfying, especially because Theo had no prior commitments, and never whispered that what they were doing was wrong. 

No, with Theo, things were blissfully uncomplicated. His kisses were playful and sweet, soft and gentle, but also fierce and passionate. He made Harry feel wanted; a first choice even if it was just for sex. 

He should want Theo more. He  _should_. But he had Draco before him and all he could think about was how Theo was not Draco, would never match up to him. 

A cloud of unknown emotion passed over Malfoy's pale grey eyes, before he blinked and it was gone. 

"Cancel," Draco whined, his lips forming into a seductive little pout. As if the thought hadn't already been in his mind. 

"I can't," Harry protested, but unable to resist the urge, he pressed a sweet kiss to Draco's lips. It was getting harder to resist him.  

"Please, baby? I _need_ you."

Harry groaned. Pet names weren't something they used often. And yet, they were the most effective way to get either of them to cave into what the other wanted. 

Before he could second guess himself, Harry was sending his Patronus off, and Draco was preening, his eyes gleaming as he threw himself into Harry's arms and began peppering kisses onto his lips and face. 

\---

As usual, Harry woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unusual after a rigorous tryst with Draco, to fall asleep holding him and to wake up with the phantom scent of his cologne lingering to the sheets. 

It wasn't unusual but that didn't mean Harry was used to it. 

He sighed, running a hand over his face. What was he doing? 

Getting involved with a man whose heart belonged to someone else had never been on his 'to-do' list. He had never wanted to be someone on the side. 

But Draco... 

Draco just. Was an exception to everything. If he wanted to fly to Paris for dinner and a shag, Harry would apparate them within a second. 

Hell, it was worrying how quickly Malfoy had gotten him under his spell. 

Deciding that it would do him no good to lie in bed, moping all day long, Harry got up and pulled a pair of black pants on. 

He scratched idly at his bare chest, wondering if Theo would be up for a meeting. He hoped that he was. Theo always woke up with him, his eyes glittering in the muted morning light. He looked nice, Harry thought. Sleepy and sated.

The smell of coffee lured him into the kitchen and just as he was opening his mouth to thank Kreacher for being a godsend, he stopped short. 

Standing at the stove was Draco Malfoy, dressed in Harry's dress shirt from the night before, his elbow moving as he cooked something over the stovetop. 

"Malfoy?" 

"Finally!" He exclaimed as he turned around, quickly divesting of the spatula he was holding. "You sleep like a bloody troll." 

The blond man just advanced toward him, a tantalizing amount of fair skin on display as several buttons proved to be undone. His words confused Harry - if he didn't know better he'd say he sounded  _fond_ \- but what confused Harry the most was that he was here. 

In Harry's home. Dressed in his shirt. Cooking breakfast. And kissing him, apparently. 

"Mm," Draco hummed, looping his arms around Harry's neck. 

"Ma-hmpf!" He tried, only to have Draco's tongue meet his own. He tasted sweet, like toothpaste and something sugary, so demanding and possessive that Harry momentarily melted into the embrace, his hands coming around to grip Draco's hipbones. 

A soft hoot had them breaking apart. 

Standing on the table was Theo's owl, Jasper. The small avian nodded impatiently at the scroll on the table, the seal already broken. 

Harry threw Draco an incredulous glance, to which Draco just replied with an innocent look that Harry did not believe for a second. Disentangling himself, he moved over to the impatient bird and summoned a treat to give it. 

With another wary glance, he snatched the parchment up. 

_Harry,_

_Brunch at my place?_

_-T_

He glanced up at the blond currently wearing his shirt, then back down to the opened scroll in his palm. 

\---

Theodore Nott was uncharacteristically clingy and, well,  _affectionate_ for a Slytherin. At least, as far as Harry was concerned. 

Harry had a feeling that it came from being part of yet another detached Pureblood family. But seeing as he too found himself craving physical affection, he wasn't disinclined to deny Theo. 

It just made eating brunch a bit tricky. 

With a bit of maneuvering, they managed to get the other brunet seated comfortably on Harry's lap, his long fingers tracing the baby hairs at the nape of Harry's neck. It was sickeningly domestic. 

"I missed you last night," Theo whispered. His lips were glistening with the juice of a ripe peach, the rest of their food forgotten on the table as they pressed bits of cubed fruit to each other's lips. Harry wondered if the juices would taste sweeter on his lips, on the tip of his tongue. 

Instead of responding, Harry leaned in, chasing the traces of peach from Theo's pale lips. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his tongue tracing an apology onto the other's lips. He meant it. Just probably not in the way Theo was imagining it. 

It was more complicated than Harry was willing to admit. 

He was sorry for getting involved for Draco. He was sorry for not being able to give himself up to Theo more fully. Sorry for what he felt. 

If only he hadn't kissed Draco that night, hadn't started their sordid affair and  _continued_ it, perhaps Harry could get used to this. 

Theo pressed another kiss to his lips, more a caress of lips than anything else. His thin lips pressed against his jawline, down his neck, across his collarbone. 

He kissed all the places Draco had kissed that morning when he told him that he wouldn't be seeing Theo for brunch. Of course Harry had known it was a lie from the moment the words slipped from his lips. 

His hands slipped down further, cupping Theo's arse, kneading the flesh tenderly, almost regretfully. He pushed all thoughts of Draco out of his mind and decided to focus on Theo. Just Theo. His sweet, gentle lips and the scent of his shampoo, the feel of his arse and the way he gasped Harry's name - just Theo.

\---

Perhaps Draco had known that Harry had been lying. Or perhaps he just wanted to make sure - Harry didn't know. 

Either way, Draco knew. 

They'd barely made it to the bedroom, all frantic gasping and sweet pleas, half naked bodies pressed tightly together, when the Floo flared and that deliciously posh voice rang out. Of course.

Harry was sure Draco had known _something,_ because they could hear the blond ascending the stairs, his feet carrying him up to Theo's bedroom with an urgency that belied his suspicions. They had barely managed to cover themselves up with a thin sheet before the door was being thrown open, and the expressive grey eyes that plagued Harry's dreams were roaming over their debauched forms. 

Their eyes locked and Harry fought to remain impassive. Draco didn't get to do this. 

He didn't get to check up on Harry and 'catch' him. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He didn't belong to Draco. Just like Draco belonged to someone else. 

He didn't get to act hurt when Harry was intimate with someone else. 

Harry had to deal with Draco's relationship. Had to make do with being the second choice, the secret. So no, he wasn't going to give Draco the pleasure of making him feel guilty because he wasn't doing anything  _wrong_. 

Still, the sheer hurt in his eyes makes Harry feel like scum, and he instantly hated himself for it. Hated Draco. Hated their fucked up situation.

Hated that Theo sends him home shortly after Draco showed up. 

Hated that Draco followed him not 5 minutes later. 

Hated the way Draco whispered 'mine' over and over as he lowered himself over Harry's aching cock. 

~~~

"You're a bastard, Harry Potter," Draco spat at him, a few weeks later, shoving him up against the wall in the sitting room. 

Harry stayed quiet, searching his partner's eyes. He didn't understand Draco - not when they were kids, not now, not ever. 

How could he just stand there, all righteous fury when he was the bastard? The liar? Sure, Harry had been a willing party but Draco was the one betraying the man he supposedly loved. 

Something in Harry snapped. Something repressed and dark and hidden. Something that he had kept tucked in his chest ever since Draco had confessed he was seeing someone but couldn't get enough of Harry. Something that grew heavier and heavier every time Draco canceled. Every time he woke up to an empty bed with Draco's scent on it. 

"You can't just toy with people, you know. You have to choose  _one_ of us. And if you don't choose now, you never will. So what will it be, Potter? Me or him?" 

"You." 

It came without a moment of hesitation. 

Yes, Theo was amazing and affectionate and bloody handsome, but he wasn't Draco. He didn't have soft blond hair or expressive grey eyes, didn't understand Harry in a way that Draco did. He didn't have Draco's sharp tongue or wit. He was amazing, but he wasn't Draco - wasn't who Harry craved. 

But. 

But Draco couldn't - wouldn't choose Harry, so why should Harry have to?

"I would choose you." 

He swallowed harshly and removed Draco's hands from his chest. He sidestepped the blond and slumped heavily onto the couch. 

"I would choose you if you chose me. But you haven't, Malfoy. You've chosen the man you're dating over and over. So choose him completely, choose him fully. Because I - I can't choose someone who won't choose me." 

"What are you saying." 

"You know what I'm saying," Harry laughed bitterly. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the couch. "This - this  _thing_ between is can't go on. Don't come back, yeah? Not if you're not going to choose me.

"I can't take it anymore." 

The silence seemed to last forever. And then, his floo was activating and when he looked up, Draco was gone. 

~~~

Harry paused as he opened the door, surprised to see Draco Malfoy on his doorstep. It was a quiet Thursday night and Harry hadn't been expecting any visitors. Hell, he'd just gotten home himself, barely having had time to slip out of his shoes and hang his Auror robes before the wards chimed to alert him of someone's presence. 

"Malfoy?" 

He tamped down the obvious excitement - he didn't want to get his hopes up only to be crushed again - and tried his best to appear unfazed. 

"Hello, Potter." The blonde replied, his speech far too stilted, too formal for Harry not to be suspicious. He could see the tension in his former lover's shoulders, could see the shiftiness in his eyes.

"Hello," he answered slowly, his eyes raking over his unexpected guest, wondering if he could pick up any another clues. Indicators as to why he stood there, on Harry's doorstop, on a Thursday night. Months after they'd more or less broken up. 

At first, all seemed normal. But then, Malfoy shot him an impatient glare. Very deliberately, he shifted, allowing his robes to part, and Harry saw it. The tantalizing sliver of pale skin, the thigh high socks, the pale, lace garter belt. Oh, how everything made sense.

He smiled wickedly, his mind already running wild with ideas. His heart - the stupid thing - soared with delight, speeding up at the implications that this surprise visit brought. 

"Come in, won't you?"

His grin broadened as he heard Malfoy swallow visibly. Even from his stance a few feet away, he could see Malfoy's pink blush, his dilated pupils, how his chest rose and fell as he tried to even out his breathing.

How had he not seen it before? 

The blond stepped through, brushing past Harry on his way in. As soon as the door was closed, Harry was on Draco, using his Auror skills to take two delicate wrists and pin them above the older man's head.

He bent down to run his nose up Draco's throat, growling in appreciation when Draco whimpered and tilted his head. 

"Don't you look ravishing tonight," he murmured, his lips ghosting over the pale skin beneath them. He could feel Draco's pulse speeding up, could sense his growing arousal. 

Merlin, he loved having Draco's body beneath his, so warm and pliant, so responsive to each and every one of Harry's touches. It made him heady with desire, his head swimming as he thought over how he was going to take Draco apart slowly, bit by bit until he broke. 

Harry's smirk was feral as he leaned back slightly, one hand holding Draco's wrists while the other pulled his robe open and teased the pale chest, his index finger just barely grazing one small, pink nipple. 

The soft gasp that fell from Draco's lips had a wave of desire crashing through him, making his body tighten with anticipation. He wanted to ravish Draco, to ruin him completely, to mark him as Harry's. Still, a small, jealous part of him couldn't help but preen. 

Draco was here, nearly shaking with need. He had obviously made a choice and Harry couldn't help but gloat mercilessly. 

"I thought you were in love with what's his face? Adam?"

"Aidan. And I am," the blond said haughtily, voice still breathless. However, his answer brought a pause to Harry's ministrations and within a second, he was at least a foot away from Draco. 

He frowned silently, examining him before turning on his heel and walking toward the kitchen. He couldn't - wouldn't - deal with Draco. 

Really, there couldn't have been a better way to throttle his desire. It was as if someone had poured ice water into Harry's veins, making his whole body feel cold and weighed down. 

Harry had - very wrongly, it seemed - assumed that Malfoy had finally come to his senses, that by some miraculous reason, he'd made a choice. But that, apparently, was too much to ask of the Slytherin Prince. 

He could hear soft, hesitant footsteps behind him. 

"It's not like that, Potter, I-" 

"Tea?" Harry cut in, putting the kettle to boil. His voice sounded detached, falsely kind in a way that he knew Draco could tell. 

"Potter, please," came his pitiful whimper. How easy it would be to give in. To slam Draco against the wall or bend him over the table. To render him a whimpering mess. To fill him up and send him on him merry way. 

But Harry wanted more - he _deserved_ more. 

"I told you not to come back unless you were ready to choose me." 

"I know, I'm sorry. I just. I _can't_ stay away." 

"Can't, or won't, Malfoy?" 

The silence that reigns in the kitchen is all that Harry needs. 

"I'll make this easy for you. I'll ward you out of my house. Block you from my Floo. Get rid of any means of communication. Rid of the _temptation_."

~~~~

Harry curses as the door behind him locks, trapping him in his own office. 

"Don't," a soft voice warns and the blood in Harry's veins freezes. Draco. Of course it's Draco. He hasn't seen the man in over 3 months, ever since he showed up at Harry's doorstep. 

Currently, he's seated atop Harry's desk, wrapped in the dark red Auror robes he keeps as a backup. 

Harry swallows. 

He'd - foolishly - thought that he'd been getting over Draco. But seeing him there, wrapped up like a tantalizing present is torture on him. The cloak slips a bit, exposing a creamy pale shoulder. 

"I left him. The night we last saw each other," Draco murmurs, his voice sounding unbearably loud in the dim room. 

3 months ago. 

"I couldn't let you get away, Harry." 

It sounds far too much like a confession - he's making himself vulnerable, the snake exposing its sensitive underbelly. 

Harry takes a tentative step forward, and then another. His mouth feels dry, like if he hasn't had anything to drink in weeks. And sitting on his desk is the answer to his parched prayers. 

Draco's lips feel like his salvation, his damnation, his everything and nothing. 

 

"Make me yours." He begs.

Harry wants to laugh. Of course. Even after all this time, Draco's still addicted. To what, Harry's not sure anymore. His cock? His touch? The way he makes him feel? He doesn't know but he finds he doesn't care. Draco is addicted and nothing about their situation is 'temporary,' not when they can't stay away from each other. Draco is addicted and nothing short of an overdose will stop him.

Then again, Harry's the same, isn't he? Unable to deny his cravings, to stifle the carnal desire thrumming through his veins, filling his prick with hot blood. 

Addicted. Of course they are. They have been since they were kids, fighting to get each other's attention across the Great Hall. 

The thought makes Harry's kisses more brutal, more demanding as he tries to consume as much as Draco as he can. He needs it. Needs to make sure that the blond know who he belongs to. 

And as he takes Draco over his desk, it's him who whispers, "Mine," over and over because Draco is Harry's, just as much as Harry is Draco's. 

His addiction, that is. 

~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes! This work is not beta-ed and was written in like 2 hours.  
> Thank you for reading! And please leave kudos/comments!


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